Nobody's Prize (12 page)

Read Nobody's Prize Online

Authors: Esther Friesner

Tags: #Young adult fiction, #Social Science, #Mediterranean Region, #Mediterranean Region - History - To 476, #Historical, #Argonauts (Greek mythology), #Helen of Troy (Greek mythology), #Social Issues, #Girls & Women, #Adventure and adventurers, #Juvenile Fiction, #Greek & Roman, #Fairy Tales; Folklore & Mythology, #Jason (Greek mythology), #Fiction, #Mythology; Greek, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Gender Studies, #Sex role, #Folklore & Mythology, #Ancient Civilizations

“That’s something you should have thought about
before
you sneaked away from Delphi,” Castor said.

“Do you want to argue about how big the fire’s grown or do you want to put it
out
?” I countered, hands on hips. “Helen can’t be here; Atalanta can!”

Polydeuces shook his head. “It won’t work. Castor and I aren’t the only crewmen who were part of the boar hunt. They
saw
Atalanta. They know she’s a woman, not a little girl.”

“I am
not
a little girl anymore! Atalanta isn’t that much older than me. I’m as much a woman as she is, now.”

“You’re still more convincing as a boy,” Castor muttered.

I did my best to fry him with a single look. “I know who was at Calydon as well as you do. Aside from Iolaus and us, I count only three of the boar hunters on this voyage. It’ll be your word against theirs if they say I’m not Atalanta.”

Polydeuces still looked doubtful. “Even men who weren’t on the hunt have heard the songs and know about Atalanta’s exploits. Little sister, I love you dearly, but you don’t look capable of standing up to a wild boar.”

But I did,
I thought.
I was there alongside Atalanta. Have the poets told the story as if my part in that great hunt never happened?
Once more I heard Herakles saying, “Truth or not, it does make the better story.” At least Atalanta was getting the praise she deserved.

“Listen,” I said to my brothers. “You have to believe me, this
can
work. Befriend the other hunters. Tell them I’m not
that
Atalanta, just a girl with the same name. Make up some reason to explain why I slipped aboard this ship. Ask them to help you play a joke on all the crewmen who weren’t at Calydon.”

“What joke?” Polydeuces asked.

“Convincing them that I
am
that Atalanta.” I gave him my most disarming smile.

“Why would they want to be part of such nonsense?” Castor demanded.

“Because they have to be part of it. If this ‘nonsense’ succeeds, we can return home with no one aware that a Spartan royal princess was ever out of her proper place in the world,” I countered. “Besides, they’ll be glad to play along, just to keep themselves amused for a while. Iolaus and Milo will help you.”

“Iolaus…” Castor repeated the name grimly. “He and I are going to have a few words about all this when the
Argo
returns. Or are you going to tell me that he had no idea who ‘Glaucus’ really was?”

I snorted. “Of course not. He’s known me since Calydon, and he recognized me at once when we met in Iolkos. But you can’t blame him for bringing me along. I didn’t give him any choice.” I folded my arms and smiled.

“A little snip like you forced a grown man, a proven hero like Iolaus, to do your bidding?” Castor said. He grimaced. “Unfortunately, I can almost believe it.”

“Well? Will you do things my way, too?”

My brothers exchanged an uncertain look. Polydeuces sighed. “I guess it’s better than the alternative.”

“What alternative?” Castor asked.

         

By the time our ship pulled away from that Colchian fishing village, my new identity was established. I was Atalanta to the crew of the
Argo,
though for some of the men I was merely an ordinary girl with the same name as the famous huntress.

Jason himself invited me to join him at the prow of the
Argo
when we sailed. It was as if my new identity had created a new Jason, one who was all charm and compliments. He made such a show of welcoming me as
that
Atalanta in front of the whole crew that my relief became suspicion.
Not even one question to test me?
I wondered.
What’s he up to?

I had my answer a little while later, from Orpheus. Jason’s effusive words were still ringing false in my ears when I went aft to the helm in time to overhear the Thracian singer tell Milo, “What luck for Jason. He’s lost Herakles, but Atalanta’s fame will do something to make up for that. Even if he never performs a heroic act himself, he’ll be renowned as the man who commanded heroes. Her name alone will be enough to make people remember his.” Then he saw me. “Hail, great huntress,” he murmured with a faint, knowing smile.

So that was it. Jason treated me as if I truly were Atalanta the huntress because it served his own purposes, not because I’d fooled him for an instant. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that many of the other crewmen were acting the same way just so they could go home someday and say, “There she was, the same Atalanta who helped Meleager bring down the Calydonian boar, the huntress whose beauty destroyed heroes! She always fought at my side, you know. The poor girl was crazy in love with me, but I like
real
women.”

I wondered what Atalanta herself would do if she ever heard such nonsense.
But what
could
she do, once the stories spread far enough?
I thought.
Even if she swears the holiest oath that she was never on the
Argo,
who’ll believe her? If the songs are more exciting than the truth, they’ll become the truth that everyone remembers. Atalanta, my friend, forgive me. I promise you that whatever happens, I’ll bring no dishonor to your name.

         
8
         

THE KING’S DAUGHTER

As the day went on, I discovered that being Atalanta had its privileges. No one expected me to continue my duties as Iolaus’s weapons bearer, and they didn’t expect me to take a place at the oars with the rest of the crew either. I was free to stroll the length of the
Argo,
to watch the passing shoreline, to eat and drink whenever I liked. I took advantage of it all without a second thought, and anyone who claims he’d never have done the same thing, given the chance, is probably lying. I only wished that the real Atalanta had been treated with such honor in Calydon.
Still, better a heroine than a princess,
I thought gaily.

Iolaus, and Milo too, benefited from my new fame. Many of the other Argonauts had decided that the only possible reason for a woman to volunteer for a perilous voyage was to be with the man she loved. They just couldn’t agree on which of my friends was the irresistible fellow. Some argued that Milo’s youth put him out of the running; others countered that he was old enough, and called attention to his first shadowy growth of whiskers as proof. Some said it
must
be Iolaus, who wasn’t just a hero in his own right but shared Herakles’ glory for his part in slaying the Hydra. Some played it safe and took both sides. At first the whispers made Iolaus and Milo uncomfortable, but it didn’t last long. When a man stops looking embarrassed and starts wearing a preening little smile, I’d say he’s gotten used to his new reputation.

There was a good wind and a calm sea with us that morning. Everyone knew Argus had proclaimed that Aea was only a day’s sail away, so the rowers worked harder than ever, energized by the thought of reaching our voyage’s goal. I took my place at the prow so that I could enjoy the sensation of skimming across the waves like a white-winged gull.

Argus joined me, resting his hand on the carved scene showing Helle falling to her death from the back of the flying ram. We didn’t speak at first, both of us captured by the spell of the sea. When I stole a glance at him, his face was blissful and serene. I was happy to see him so contented until I remembered how this voyage was fated to end for him. He’d told me the Pythia’s prediction: “She said if I went home again, I’d die. She said if I
didn’t
go home again, I’d live a long life, but a forgotten one, and I’d die without ever having another sight of the sea.”

“Lovely, isn’t she?” he said to me, speaking of the sea. “Look there!” He pointed at a scattering of dark shapes on the horizon. “Those are the first ships besides ours that I’ve seen since we left Thrace. They must be merchant craft. I wonder where they’re bound? Even when I was a boy, not a day went by without ships from at least twenty kingdoms sailing into port at Aea.”

“Are we almost there?” I asked.

“You won’t be sleeping on the beach tonight,” he replied. “Not unless you’re fool enough to insist on it.”

“I don’t mind sleeping under the stars.”

“Well, isn’t that what a legendary huntress always does?” He winked at me. “Or have you become someone else already?” He kept his teasing to a whisper.

“Very funny.”

“Put your quills down, little hedgehog, I’m not your enemy,” Argus replied. “I owe you plenty for what you’ve brought to this voyage. Thanks to you, I only felt like throttling Jason every
second
day. I wish I knew your true name so when I die, I can tell Hades, ‘See that girl? She’s sharp as a shark’s tooth, brave enough to battle the worst storm Poseidon could throw at her, and one of these days she’ll be as beautiful as a sunrise on a summer sea. So you tell the Fates to spin the thread of her life good and long, or you’ll have Argus to answer to!’” He chuckled.

I placed my hand over his on the prow. “I hope the Pythia was wrong,” I told him. “Not because I like you, but so Hades doesn’t have to put up with you too soon.”

         

“Land! Aea!” Argus was still at the ship’s prow when we came into sight of the Colchian royal city. He even beat keen-eyed Lynceus to the announcement. “There she is! By the gods, she’s as magnificent as I remember her.” A loud cheer went up from the crew. The men shipped their oars and raced to the rails, avid for their first look at the city of the Fleece.

Milo and I were aft, near the steering oar. We hadn’t had the chance to speak more than ten words to one another since the moment I’d swapped “Glaucus” for “Atalanta.” I was hoping to amend that, but once Aea was on the horizon, the opportunity fled. The
Argo
’s helmsman was as excited as the rest of the crew. He barked a command at Milo, and my friend suddenly found himself holding on to the steering oar while Tiphys hurried forward to gape at the great port.

“You must’ve left your weak stomach on the shore at Iolkos. Look at you!” I told Milo proudly. “You’re a born sailor. You should become a seagoing merchant’s apprentice when we go home again. You could even have your own ship someday.”

“If I do, will you sail in her?” Milo asked.

“If you set her course, I will.”

He grinned. “You’ll have to run away again. Once you return to Sparta and your parents find out what you’ve been doing, they’ll lock you up.”

“And draw attention to the whole scandalous business?” I responded, pretending to be shocked at the very thought. “How would they manage to find any man willing to marry me then?”

“The man who won’t marry you because you chose this adventure doesn’t deserve you,” Milo said. “A man who truly loves you will understand why you ran away. He’ll know who you really are.” His smile was gone. “And if you can’t love him as much as he loves you, he’ll understand that, too.”

“Milo…” I reached out to touch his arm, but just then Tiphys came running up to take back the steering oar. Argus was hot on his tail, calling him and all his ancestors so many foul names that I didn’t know whether to duck out of sight or start memorizing the most impressive ones.

“Is
this
how you treat my beautiful ship?” Argus yelled, bright red in the face. “Trusting her to an inexperienced boy is bad enough, but at this time?” He gestured to the west, where the sun was already beginning to dip below the sea. “Count yourself lucky that I don’t give you a fine view of Aea from the bottom of her harbor!”

“Gods above, calm yourself,” Tiphys muttered. “It was only for a moment. No harm was done.”

“Why don’t I take you to the roof of the Sun Temple, once we’re ashore, and push you off? You can keep repeating, ‘No harm done, no harm done,’ up to the instant you hit the ground! Of all the miserable, ignorant—!” Argus choked on his own fury. I don’t know how long he would have gone on if a call from the prow hadn’t distracted him.

The port of Aea was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Even in the fading daylight, it was a splendid spectacle. The waterfront teemed with gaily painted buildings, all dwarfed by the high citadel with its thick stone walls, red as old blood. As our vessel came closer, I saw bustling hordes of people, most of them richly dressed in the brightest hues, skin and hair also in a stunning variety of colors. Ships of all sizes crowded the shore, and the shore itself was strangely formed, with many narrow stone fingers stretching out into the water. Argus smirked to see the whole ship’s crew so dumbfounded by our first sight of his homeland.

“What’s wrong, lads?” he demanded. “Never seen a dock before? Trust me, you’ll come to love it. No need to break your backs hauling the ship onto dry land, and she’ll be happier too, left cradled on the water.” He gave orders to everyone manning the oars, the helm, and the sail. Soon the
Argo
was safely berthed at the very end of the dock farthest from the citadel, tied to several of the pillars bristling from the stone.

The crewmen were used to dropping over the sides of the
Argo
into shallow water. Leaping from the gently bobbing ship to the dock was a new experience, even more difficult to master in the dusk. Many of them stumbled and fell to hoots of delighted laughter from their comrades. I watched closely to learn from the mistakes that others made, then jumped and landed firmly on my feet. The men cheered, and I even saw my brothers smiling their approval.

Only half the crew was off the ship when a group of six spearmen came trotting down the length of the dock to intercept us. Their tunics were as red as the royal stronghold walls, and their shields and helmets glinted in the dying daylight. Their leader was a short, swarthy man with a boarhound’s face half covered by a sooty beard. He hailed us in the local tongue and then, to my surprise, in several more languages, including our own.

“If you come in peace, be welcome to Colchis,” he said. “What is your business here?” As he spoke, he cast a canny, expert eye over the
Argo.
His thoughts were as plain as if he spoke them aloud:
If you’re a merchant vessel, where are the goods you’ve brought to trade?

Argus would have answered, but Jason hurried to plant himself between the shipbuilder and the spearmen. “I am Prince Jason of Iolkos, and my business here is with your king.”

“Iolkos?” The lead spearman repeated the name in a way that showed he’d never heard of it. “What would my lord Aetes have to do with Iolkos, wherever that is? If that’s your only claim to an audience with the king—”

Argus made an impatient noise. “Since when does Lord Aetes need the likes of you to decide who he’ll want to see? Or has his kingdom become so poor that he can no longer afford a little bread and salt for his own kin?”

The spearman goggled at Argus. “Are
you
claiming kinship to Lord Aetes, old man?”

“I look older than I am, fool, just as you’ll look the worse for wear when my grandfather finds out you insulted me. I’m Argus, son of Phrixus and the royal lady Nera, Lord Aetes’ eldest daughter by his chief wife. Do you recognize my name, or were you whelped yesterday, pup?”

The spearman’s mouth flattened. “You were banished.”

“So I was. Yet here I am. Now
use
the mind the gods gave you. Ask yourself why any sane man would risk his life by defying an order of exile. What could be so crucial that I’d be willing to put my own blood in the balance for it, eh?” He clapped the spearman on the back before the man could react and concluded, “Don’t you think Lord Aetes might want to know the answer to that, too?”

         

Night enveloped the port of Aea and still we stood on the dock. The leader of the spearmen left his troops to watch us while he carried the news of our arrival to Lord Aetes. The men still aboard the
Argo
kindled a few oil lamps to chase away the shadows.

I sidled up to Argus. “What do you think will happen?”

He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s going to take my grandfather some time to chew over the news, then to decide what he wants to do about it. Don’t worry. I remember him being a reasonable man. If there’s a price to pay for my return, I’ll be the only one who’ll have to pay it.”

“We won’t allow that,” I said staunchly. “We’ll stand by you.”

His laugh was short. “You can’t speak for anyone but yourself, O huntress. The other men
might
defend me, if only to add to their fame as fighters, but Jason himself would skin me alive with his own knife if Lord Aetes offered to swap the Golden Fleece for my old pelt.”

“What are you saying, Argus?” Jason came out of the darkness like a murdered man’s ghost. “I heard you mention my name.”

“Only telling Atalanta here about your own exploits as a hunter,” Argus said as naturally as if it were true. “You ought to show her that leopard-skin trophy of yours. It’s a beauty.”

“There’ll be time enough to show her that later.” Jason tried to look annoyed, but I could tell that Argus’s smooth talk had flattered him. “When I choose to do it, not when you try to send me off on an errand. I still lead this venture, not you.”

I hated his arrogant attitude toward Argus, to whom he owed so much, but there was little I could do about it. The best I could manage was a ruse to divert him. “A leopard skin?” I put the proper note of awe into my voice. “You should wear it when Lord Aetes summons us to his hall. One look at such a prize and he’ll know who our leader is without asking!”

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